


Farewell. Legasov.

by Crysteal



Category: Chernobyl (TV 2019)
Genre: Bad Spelling & Grammar, How Do I Tag, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-12 09:58:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19944298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crysteal/pseuds/Crysteal
Summary: I regret nothing.





	Farewell. Legasov.

September 1, 1987. An Indian summer, thirty Celsius under the sun.

I’m spending weeks in Kurchatov, going home at late evening, when the day’s heat is over. Reduced the time outside - cars follow everywhere, annoying. There is nowhere to go anyway.

I used to look at the window often, after those tails of mine. Stopped it a long time ago. Sick to the back teeth of that view.

On a sudden - a door ring. I was scared a little, haven’t look into the peephole. “Not them, maybe” - I thought, “Maybe neighbors...”

“What do you need?” - said I, it sounded rude.

“Valera?” - the voice is painfully familiar, - “It is me, Boris! Happy birthday!”

I could not believe my eyes and ears. Here you are - standing at my doorstep, flesh and blood. You are holding two string bags filled with scarce products and look at me so warmly, smiling…

You remembered that date when I myself forgot it.

We saw each other not so long ago at the moment, maybe couple of month since the court. It was much longer to me. We spent a year together, side by side, at the same room. We shared everything - joy and grief, food and booze, even phone calls. I got used to you much harder than to the cigarettes. I missed you. Sometimes to withdrawal.

I had a lot to say and ask, but every word simply stuck in a throat. You were talking instead of me, about the current work on NPP mostly. And absolutely nothing about yourself.

You brought some fruits, a cake and champagne. I guess to get it all was as hard as to persuade Charkov to make this meeting possible. “You do deserve the best,” - you said hiding sadness in the sight, when I’ve tried to refuse those luxuries.

You’ve drank before you came here, to brace yourself obviously. I’d drink too if I knew you'll come. You weren’t drunk at all of course - the blush had issued you. The blush that I know very well… I saw it often before, at our quiet nights in Polissya.

We were drinking vodka and Sovetskoye and got high too fast. You were trying to explan me something with the tangling tongue. I was laughing as a child. You were laughing too. For just a moment I forgot the horror we got through and all that left to get through yet. It was so easy and serene; I haven’t felt it for decades. And then you bumped the face into my neck. Fell silent.

I hugged you, caressed your gray hair. You froze, I’ve felt the tears leaking through the shirt and running on my body. I was holding my breath afraid to move.

When you raised a head that was the first time when I saw you close enough to feel your warm breath on the skin. The last tear dropped on your cheek, I caught it, wiped away. Grabbed your face with palms, exactly as you did it once to me. Those bright blue eyes and barely glimpsing smile you gave me then… there is no day that passed without me having that flashback.

It was unbearably painful to see you crying, but I could not afford myself cry too. I was supposed to be happy. You were with me. You were so freaking close…

“Borya, what is it?” - I whispered, - “A smile?”

I pulled your face to mine and kissed you. Or it is you kissed me? You became surprisingly wild and impatient, as if just sought for the cause I gave you. I succumbed. You can't imagine how long I've desired that.

I do remember not so much: a falling on a sofa, you unbuttoning the shirt and gently shushing my moans...

It was not supposed to happen, right? You came to me without any of that kind of idea, and I just spoiled everything. You've vaporized without saying a goodbye, as if that all appeared to be a dream. Do you regret it? Do you even remember? I'd give everything to get a single word from you that night, the last one to keep in memory after.

You vanished silently. I’ve fell asleep and you have gone. Cleaned dishes, put a cake into the fridge. Took out the trash. Covered my body with a blanket and left me lying alone at the living room. Left me forever.

I phoned you, wrote you. I braced myself to do it once and did it many times, notwithstanding it is harshly forbidden.

It was all fruitless obviously. They watched me getting to your house every week to put a letter into the mailbox. I watched them giggling. But did it again and again anyway, hoping that one day they’ll miss one. Four months of long phone beeps later I've finally heard a voice - a young woman, new flat owner. She has returned every single letter I wrote unopened.

You moved and haven't even hinted me. I was holding a faith there is a chance for you to get my message, but I was mailing at completely wrong address. They didn't even try to steal these letters as I thought they do, they knew you won’t come back. Their arrogant confidence has turned into the lucky strike of mine.

She phoned me yesterday. "Previous owner got a box on my address; he is to come to take it out with outdated mail. Come if you need to."

I refused to stay. That’s why you read this letter. At least I hope you do.

We both know it is my guilt. It was not your choice to leave me then, but the consequences of mine. But I can’t see you anymore, it would hurt me deadly. But most important reason - it would hurt you too.

My heart aches daily when i think of what I’ve done. I’ve choose to sacrifice us both in favor of the truth. And you supported me. Because it was the only way, the right one.

I keep recalling that September evening and your wet eyes; I want you to refresh that day in mind, right now I want just to reveal the words I’ve silenced. To show you what I felt. But not to say I’m sorry. Not to regret.

I don't know what you've paid with then to see me, but you did. There is nothing impossible for you in this world, i'm sure. Of two of us it’s you who do deserve the best. And all that I’ve deserved is lung cancer.

There is a little time that left for me, you are my only hope to fight it further. I’ve made a tape and shared there every tiny piece of what I own about the incident. You'll find the box behind the vent grid over trash cans outside. I couldn't trust it no one else. I hope you'll get it.

Don't worry about me, but remember. I'll disappear when you forget.

And whatever you feel, i have to say it. Я люблю тебя.

Farewell.

Legasov.

25.04.88


End file.
